1980 book predicted the looming death of football

[Steely McBeam]

There’s been plenty of talk about the decline of football. It’s not new. Indeed, it’s at least 40 years old.

Earlier this week, when discussing the Championship Throw That Wasn’t from Super Bowl LIV, I remembered Championship Throw That Was from Super Bowl XIV. I specifically remembered the photo of Steelers quarterback Terry Bradshaw’s pinpoint pass that Rams defensive back Rod Perry nearly batted away but that landed in the arms of receiver John Stallworth, who caught the ball in full stride for a 73-yard touchdown while the Steelers trailed 19-17 in the fourth quarter of a game played in front of more than 100,000 spectators at the Rose Bowl.

The image of Stallworth ready to corral the throw, with Perry’s blurred right hand obscuring the “I” in Sports Illustrated, continues to be one of the most powerful and iconic of the Super Bowl era. Curious as to whether my copy of the issue was still floating around in the attic over the garage, I accepted the challenge of sifting through the various places it possibly could be, and I found it without much sweat or frustration.

It’s a fascinating time capsule, with the ads revealing much more about changes in society than the stories or the photos. The Super Bowl XIV issue was fueled by revenue from space used to sell grossly outdated cars (Oldsmosbile Cutlass on the inside cover, Mazda 626 on page 24, Volkswagen Rabbit on page 36, with Paul Hornung sitting on the hood, two-page International Harvester Scout on pages 40-41, Renault Le Car on page 45, Ford Thunderbird on page 51, two-page Honda Civic at pages 58-59, Chevy Camaro at page 71, and American Motors at page 79), the liquor (Ronrico rum on page 21, Seagram’s VO on page 39, Canadian Mist at page 54, Wild Turkey at page 69, Smirnoff on the inside of the back cover), and the cigarettes (Kool Milds on page 9, a two-page Camel lights spread on pages 22-23, Merit on page 42, Doral II on page 53, Golden Lights at page 60, Camel at page 67, Winston at page 75, and Arctic Lights on the back cover).

And then there’s this question, in an ad at the top of page 55. “Is the All-American game going into sudden death?” The title was as ominous as it could have been: “The Death of an American Game, The Crisis in Football.”

“From Pop Warner to the pros, organized football is in serious trouble,” the ad explains. “Sports Illustrated senior writer John Underwood exposes and explores the dramatic problems that jeopardize the sport’s future (from the 100% injury rate of the NFL, the sanctioned violence and drugs, to professionalization and questionable values exhibited on the college level and below) and offers a detailed, constructive proposal for reforming the game. ‘Sure to stir controversy. . . . A powerful indictment of the grid-iron system from top to bottom.'”

The ad included an image of a football with a flag draped over it, an homage of questionable tastefulness to the casket of an American soldier.

I’ve found a used copy of the book for $4.44 (with shipping and tax). It will be interesting to see what Underwood thought a full four decades ago of a doomed sport that has continued to grow and thrive and succeed, despite the constant parade of those who would like to see it fail.

Yes, the sport has challenges. Led by the NFL, football has made real efforts to address and to solve them (even if it took more than a little while to get the league’s full attention regarding concussions). But there’s still nothing like football in the broad American sports experience.

So here we are, 40 years after that weekly flood of copy hawking crappy cars and cheap booze and cancer-causing addictive smoke sticks. Football hasn’t simply endured but it has become dramatically bigger than it was in January 1980. Now, the NFL enters its second century strong than it’s ever been — and likely stronger than any of those who founded the league in the showroom of a Hupmobile dealership in Canton 100 years ago this September ever would have imagined.